


Bookish

by equalsMCsquare



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equalsMCsquare/pseuds/equalsMCsquare
Summary: Well there's a bookstore and there's some boys and a quirky bookstore owner / matchmaker...





	Bookish

“I like bookstores,” Harry frowned.

 

“Honestly, Harry, you can order everything you want by owl these days,” Hermione responded. “I keep telling you that! I get everything I want by just sending off a list!”

 

“Yeah, mate,” Ron added excitedly. “You can get the catalogue from Flourish and Blotts, if you really want the updates. I pre-ordered the new edition of Quidditch of the Ages and got it before everyone else. Did you get it? I hear it’s sold out, but I think you’re in this one!”

 

Every Friday night Harry, Ron, and Hermione could be found at the Leaky, sometimes joined by the rest of the crew. But Ginny and Luna were on their honeymoon and Neville was getting ready for the new semester at Hogwarts. Harry was uncomfortably aware of all of this, and of Hermione’s growing belly, bringing with it the unlikelihood of anybody but him having time every Friday for drinks in the coming months. Where did the time go?

 

“I don’t care Ron, I like the physical aspect of book stores. Just like I like physical books! Look, would you want to order a broomstick without seeing it first?”

 

“Of course not, Harry!” Ron exclaimed, looking comically scandalized. “It’s totally different! Brooms are… about the feel, the weight, and the—the smell! Of the brooms!”

 

“Exactly! That’s what I need from a bookstore!”

 

“That’s just ridiculous. Even Hermione will back me up here.”

 

“Yes, _even Hermione_ ,” Hermione echoed, rolling her eyes. “But I do. You can get all the necessary information about what’s in a book without ever laying your eyes on the physical copy. In fact, that would’ve probably saved me a lot of effort lugging around a mini library in 7th year.”

 

Harry downed his drink, scowling. He knew he was being petulant but he was used to either Ron or Hermione usually taking his side. They rarely teamed up against him.

 

“Besides,” – _uh oh, it was Hermione’s Voice of Reason_ —“when was the last time you went to a bookstore? They’re all well and good in theory but who has the time?”

 

“As a matter of fact, I have plans to go to a bookstore tomorrow!”

 

Hermione quirked an eyebrow and sipped from her ginger ale.

 

“A new one,” Harry added lamely. “Not Flourish and Blotts.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Hermione continued to look unconvinced.

 

“I’m serious!”

 

“As serious as the next round, am I right?” Ron laughed awkwardly, trying to break the tension.

 

As they ordered, Harry pondered the possibilities of tomorrow. He couldn’t let Hermione have the last word.

 

***

 

“New bookstore… new bookstore… new wizarding bookstore… no, not an adult bookshop, what does that even mean?” Harry muttered to himself, as he scrolled through the ever updating Blue Pages at the corner of Diagon and Knockturn Alley. _Find Anything and Everything You’re Looking For!_ It proclaimed cheerily across the top.

 

“You say you want a new bookshop, eh laddie?”

 

Harry jumped, startled, and looked around to find the source of the voice.

 

“Er, yes, I was.”

 

“Down here, laddie, thatta boy.” Harry peeped down to his feet. “Not _that_ far down laddie, I’m no’ a pixie am I?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Harry muttered. “Where are you?” he said louder.

 

“Ah, oh! Wait just a mo’…”

 

A moment later, an elderly wizard no taller than Harry’s hip appeared before him. Harry jumped back, almost hitting the witch passing behind him. She glared at him, and the mysterious wizard smiled sheepishly.

 

“Sorry, mate, forgot to turn that off, yeah? Pleased to meet you, Haberdashy Cornelius III, at your service.” He stuck out one hand, and with the other, tipped his hat dramatically to Harry.

 

“Er, Harry. Harry Potter.”

 

“Very good, very good,” Haberdashy said distractedly. “Now, I heard you looking for a bookstore.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, I know Flourish and Blotts is just down the road, but I—”

 

“No need to explain boy, I understand the desire to find a small private bookshop to peruse the selection in. Why, my mother was a bookworm!”

 

“Er—”

 

The little old man had started bounding away in front of Harry.

 

Harry sighed. _Just for once, I’d just like to look something up, and apparate there like a normal wizard. But nooo, it’s got to be Harry Potter’s Literary Adventure_ , he thought darkly.

 

***

 

“Where are we?” Harry gawked.

 

“What, 15 years in the wizarding world and you’ve never been to Pixie Gables? The third biggest magical shopping district in London? After Diagon and Knockturn, yeah?”

 

Harry hummed in vague assent. But really he was looking around. He felt 11 years old again, discovering the oddities in magical shops. It must be his age, but it looked a little less crowded this time around. In fact, it looked almost deserted, with only a few people besides them walking around between the entrances.

 

“Where is everyone?”

 

“Everyone? Who are you looking for?”

 

“No, that isn’t what I meant, I’m not looking for anyone, I just—”

 

“Well, then why are we standing here jawing? There’s a bookshop waiting for you!” Haberdashy said excitedly, before taking off through the alley on their left. Harry hurried to keep up with him, soaking in everything around him.

 

How was he going to describe this place to Hermione? It was like Diagon Alley but… more shiny? Cleaner? Newer, maybe? No that wasn’t it. There was almost a different flavor of magic in the air since their arrival. Harry had never felt anything like it since Hogwarts.

 

“Seriously, Haberdashy, where are we?”

 

“At a bookshop!” Haberdashy stopped abruptly, causing Harry to almost trip over him.

 

Harry looked up. Then he looked down at Haberdashy. Then he looked up again.

 

“It’s… quaint.”

 

“Ah, Harry m’boy, didn’t anyone ever tell you… to not judge a book by it’s cover?” Haberdashy said quietly, looking over at Harry with a mysterious smile.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“No? How about… it’s bigger on the inside?”

 

Harry continued to look unimpressed.

 

“Alright, alright, just come in why don’t you.”

 

The small wizard pushed the front door open, and Harry would’ve maybe appreciated the sound of the beautiful chimes behind them, were he not busy gawking at what he saw inside.

 

He saw several rows of books, though nothing extraordinary, about the size of the Grimmauld Place library. He saw varieties of lanterns, floating around over the heads of the scattered customers. Also not extraordinary. The tables, not extraordinary either. Nor the cashier counter, with the rolling ladder behind it. But the person on the ladder…

 

Harry rounded on Haberdashy with his wand drawn.

 

“What are you playing at?” he asked loudly.

 

Haberdashy looked at the end of his wand, then at Harry’s face. He waved his hand dismissively. “Put that away at once, you’ll scare the bookworms. I told you my mother was--”

 

“Potter?” a familiar drawl came from behind him.

 

Harry took a deep breath and turned, tucking his wand under his arms as he crossed them.

 

“Malfoy.”

 

***

 

“Don’t mind Habs. Just because he’s been around longer than the rest of us, he thinks he owns the place.”

 

Draco blew across his cup of tea. The boys had settled into armchairs by the window after Haberdashy had tried to introduce them. They’d hastily explained that they knew each other but neither seemed in much of a hurry to explain how, so they’d complied with Habs’ excitement in bringing them a cup of tea so they could “catch up.”

 

“I do own the place, laddie! And I could fire you at my merest whim!”

 

Draco rolled his eyes, but a smile was tugging at his lips.

 

“Do close your mouth Potter, it’s rather unbecoming to think that a fly could get caught in it.”

 

Harry’s mouth snapped shut. Perhaps it was the return to familiarity that the snark brought, because everything else in front of him right now was surely a figment of his imagination.

 

“So let me get this straight.”

 

Draco smirked at that, for reasons unknown to Harry.

 

“Sure, Potter. Go on, let’s make this straight. I thought that’s what I did with my first explanation.”

 

“That doesn’t mean it made sense, Malfoy,” Harry replied peevishly.

 

Draco’s smirk grew. He waved his hand impetuously for Harry to continue.

 

“You work in a bookshop?”

 

Draco nodded.

 

“You… shelve books for a living?”

 

“I read them too. You should try that some time.”

 

Harry ignored him and continued. “And you’ve been here…”

 

“For some years, I can’t remember exactly.”

 

“It’ll be 3 next month!” Habs called helpfully from the back.

 

“Right, 3 years,” Harry continued. He was on a mission for some answers.

 

“But… why?”

 

“I don’t understand the question, Potter. Why what? Why a bookstore? Why here? Why instead of anything else?”

 

“…yes.”

 

Draco sighed. “Because why not, Potter?”

 

“Harry.”

“What?” Draco said, looking surprised. Harry tried to hide his own surprise before responding.

 

“S’my name, isn’t it? We can’t be sitting here calmly drinking tea in a bookshop—that you work at—in Pixie Gables on a Saturday afternoon, and having you still call me by my surname like we’re back in school.”

 

“Alright.” Draco assented.

 

Harry waited.

 

“What? You want to call me Draco? I think not.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“That’s your name isn’t it? You can’t have changed that much… have you?” Harry realized that it was entirely possible that Draco Malfoy went by something different. Here, in his new life, in the 10 years since he’d last seen him.

 

“It’s my name, don’t look so alarmed. I’m still a Malfoy, too, incase you were wondering.”

 

“Anyways, _Malfoy_ , you still haven’t told me how you ended up here.”

 

“Same way you did. Habs caught me looking lost and told me he knew exactly where I needed to be.”

 

“I wasn’t looking _lost_ , Malfoy, I was looking for a new bookshop.”

 

“Really? Why?”

 

Harry paused.

 

“Because… Hermione didn’t think I could,” he replied lamely.

 

Draco barked a laugh at that.

 

“Granger doesn’t believe you can read or something? I knew she was doing all your homework at Hogwarts! I’m surprised you’re not all still attached at the waist anymore. Like that three-headed dog from our first year…”

 

“Fluffy,” Harry filled in absentmindedly. “They’re… they’re busy.” He shrugged uncomfortably.

 

Draco looked thoughtful at that. “Yeah. Same thing happened with Blaise and Pansy too. Theo’s traveling, and Greg moved across the pond.”

 

They drank their tea in silence for a while, letting the bookshop sounds filter around them. They could hear Habs humming to himself while he flipped through a book in the back.

 

“So… what do you like to read?” Harry asked. “What? It’s not that weird to ask, you are working in a book store.”

 

“It’s not, I’m just surprised. Are we making small talk, Potter—Harry?”

 

“Huh. It would appear so.”

 

Pause.

 

“Muggle high fantasy fiction.”

 

“What??”

 

“The books I prefer, I’m into—”

 

“I heard the words, I just…”

 

Harry looked at him. Draco’s mouth pulled up into a lopsided smile.

 

“Yeah. Things have changed.”

 

***

 

By the time Harry left, the afternoon had passed into evening, which in turn became night. Draco didn’t work for the rest of his shift, but Habs didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

 

“Take care you remember the location, lad,” Habs had cautioned.

 

“What? Why? I’ll just apparate to the bookstore next time.”

 

“It’s under the fidelius,” Draco looked surprised. “How did you not notice?”

 

“What? The bookstore? But I was never told an address—”

 

“No. Pixie Gables.”

 

“The neighborhood?”

 

Draco sighed and shot a look to the back of the store.

 

“Habs thinks he’s funny, bringing people here without telling them that. Good luck telling your friends about it tomorrow. There won’t believe that an entire neighborhood exists like this in the middle of London. Especially know-it-all Granger…”

 

 “And I forgot to buy a book for Hermione to prove it!” Harry groaned.

 

 “You’ll have to come back for one,” Draco said. He looked thoughtful. “In fact, I’ll let you pick one for Granger next time, but I’ll have one ready for you.”

 

Harry looked at Draco in mild surprise. Sure they’d passed a pleasant day together catching up and talking about books and Quidditch, but this was suddenly different.

 

“Yeah. I… I think I’d like that. Whe are you working again?”

 

***

 

“Back from your mysterious bookshop Harry?” Ginny kissed him on the cheek as she entered.

 

“Mysterious bookstores are the best bookstores, Ginevra,” Luna replied before Harry could. Harry was happy for her warm embrace and her defense of his sanity.

 

Hermione and Ron were hosting a dinner party before Neville would have to leave for the new semester at Hogwarts.

 

“I can’t believe you still take the Express every year, mate.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll try flying car next time,” Neville replied.

 

Everyone laughed as Ron’s ears turned pink.

 

Harry let the warm evening flow over him. He tried to ignore the growing pang of sadness he felt whenever he gathered with his friends. It was hard to feel like every time they had time to get together would be the last for a while. Everyone seemed to be building their own lives, and Harry was still just… Harry.

 

The evening passed in amicable chatter and Ron brought out his famous chicken tikka masala. Everyone helped themselves to a hearty amount while Hermione poured wine (for everyone but herself). There was quiet while everyone enjoyed the food, only broken by the occasionally moan of delight or compliment for Ron’s genius

 

“So tell us about the made up bookshop, Harry,” Seamus grinned. Dean laughed, as he always did when Seamus said anything remotely funny. Those two were in love in a way that even other couples found enviable, let alone Harry.

 

“Thanks, Seamus,” Harry said flatly. “It was just a regular book store. You know, parchment, tables, armchairs, Malfoy, lanterns of all sorts, almost like non-made up bookshops—”

 

He was cut off by a clattering utensil. It appeared Ginny had dropped her fork.

Harry paused. Winced, and—

 

“Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

 

“At a bookshop?”

 

“What was he doing there? _Reading?_ ”

 

“Where did you say this was?”

 

“ _Draco Malfoy???”_

 

Harry waited, patiently cutting into his dinner. When it had subsided and everyone seemed to want answers more than they wanted to ask more questions, Harry shrugged.

 

“Dunno. He was working.”

 

“ _Working_?” Ron asked.

 

“Yeah, it’s when you do something regularly to help people and get money in exchange for it,” Harry replied.

 

“Funny. I thought he’d be in jail or something,” Ron said frostily.

 

Everyone got quiet.

 

“Well… I think it’s wonderful. Nobody has ever turned their lives around without reading a book or two,” Luna said into the silence.

 

“Yeah… how’s he doing, Harry?” Neville asked tentatively.

 

“I think he’s good. We talked for a few hours, caught up, and he seems well.”

 

“A few hours? With Draco Malfoy? Are you alright Harry?” this was from Dean.

 

“It was _fine_ guys. Why are you all acting like I had lunch with Umbridge? It’s been 15 years, I can share a cup of tea with the man.”

 

Neville and Seamus shrugged and seemed to buy that. Luna had never stopped eating her dinner over the fuss, and Ginny seemed about ready to follow her lead. Hermione’s lips were still pursed, and Ron’s arms were crossed. Dean seemed amused, if anything.

 

“So, er, Ginny. How are the Harpies?”

 

***

 

The next Saturday Harry went back. He walked right up to the shop.

 

And stopped.

 

And stared.

 

Malfoy was… gardening?

 

Harry fought the immediate urge to ridicule Draco for becoming a gardening librarian in his old age, because he realized he didn’t actually want to discourage him from it.

 

Instead, he knelt next to him.

 

“What are you planting?”

 

Draco jerked, dropping the bulb he was holding carefully. He landed hard on his rear and Harry again stifled the urge to laugh.

 

“Merlin, Potter, warn a man next time.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize gardening typically rendered one deaf,” Harry replied drily.

 

“If you must know, I’m planting petunias. Habs likes the garish, bright things.”

 

“Petunias?” Harry asked blankly.

 

“Yes, I’d much prefer white roses, but Habs insists on more ‘approachable’ flowers, whatever that means,” Draco said, glaring down at the flowers as if they’d insulted his hair.

 

“You know, I’ve never planted a petunia before.”

 

“Well, I imagine the Savior of the Wizarding World would hardly have had time for flower planting,” Draco retorted.

 

“No, it’s not that,” Harry said, still staring at the flowers. “I gardened all the time for my aunt when I was growing up. And her name was Petunia.”

 

Draco looked sideways at Harry. He brushed the back of his hand across his eyebrows, smearing dirt across his forehead.

 

“I’m nearly certain that I never touched dirt growing up. At least never to do anything so common as gardening. I bet that’s why I never knew I liked it till recently.”

 

Harry hesitated.

 

“I haven’t done it since I left home. May I?” He gestured at the garden.

 

Draco nodded. He watched as Harry leaned forward and buried his hands in the cool soil, before turning around and grinning at Draco.

 

“Do you use magic for it? I’m afraid I haven’t used much herbology since we left Professor Sprout’s greenhouses.”

 

“I prefer not to, but there’s no reason one couldn’t,” Draco shrugged.

 

 _Prefer not to use magic…_ Harry didn’t know when the surprises would end with this new Draco Malfoy, but he realized that he hoped it wouldn’t be any time soon.

 

They made quick work of planting the rest of the bulbs.

 

“Looks fine to me,” Harry observed, stepping back from the little garden.

 

“Of course it does, we didn’t arrange them in that horrible clump that you suggested,” Draco sniffed.

 

“Yes, Malfoy, you’ve got a better eye than I do. Congrats, here’s your poof card.”

 

Draco froze.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“It was a joke,” Harry laughed.

 

“I don’t particularly like that term,” Draco said coldly.

 

“I—I’m sorry, I was just teasing. I mean, we’re talk about a flower arrangement, for Merlin’s sake,” Harry laughed weakly. “I wasn’t calling you a poofter really.”

 

“I think that’s enough for today. Habs can’t complain about what I finished, so I think I’ll head home now. See you around, Potter.”

Draco left before Harry could say anything else.

 

***

 

“—and he just left! I mean, it wasn’t a particularly witty joke, but is he really so insecure in his manhood that he’d take that the wrong way?”

 

It was Friday night and Harry was whinging over a beer with Ron, and Ginny. Ginny looked thoughtful and Ron was nodding emphatically with Harry.

 

“See, mate, I knew he wouldn’t turn out too good. Just cause he works in a book store doesn’t mean we know anything about him. I say good riddance.”

 

“Yeah!” Harry and Ron clinked their glasses to that and Harry attempted to drown the regret pooling in his belly at the idea of throwing in the towel on his newfound friendship with Draco.

 

“I don’t think it’s a particularly funny joke either, Harry,” Ginny said.

 

“But Ginny, men calling other men girls, and poofs, and the like is normal. We don’t mean it, jus’ something you say to your mates when they’re flying like—”

 

“Like a girl?” Ginny said flatly, causing Ron to freeze and resume his drink.

 

“I’m sorry, Gin, I didn’t mean to use it like that. I’d never call you or Seamus or Dean a word like that.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Well, because you actually… are…” Harry explained uncomfortably. He looked at Ron for backup, but Ron was very focused on a small burn in the table.

 

“Well, what if Malfoy is too?”

 

Ron spluttered on his drink while Harry just gaped at Ginny.

 

“Ginny, _please_ , just because you are doesn’t mean everyone is,” Ron said incredulously.

 

“Excuse me, Ronald?” Ginny fixed him with a stare that could rival their mother’s. Ron wilted a little, but years of living with Hermione must’ve reinforced his backbone.

 

“No offense, Ginny, you know none of us have a problem with you or Luna or Seamus and Dean. But I mean… Malfoy. He’s not exactly… soft around they edges, y’know?”

 

Harry tuned their squabbling out. He thought about Ginny said. Draco Malfoy was into men? I mean, Ron was right, none of them cared, Harry had gay friends. Why would he care if he had another?

 

He groaned silently. And he’d gone and called that ‘new friend’ a poofter. No wonder Malfoy had stormed out like that! It had to be that.

 

And yes, the flipping butterflies in his stomach were just from guilt. Absolutely nothing else.

 

***

 

In the next several weeks, Harry went to Habs’ bookshop several times. Habs had begun giving him this infuriating knowing look, even after Harry explained that he only wanted to apologize to Draco.

 

Finally, just as Harry was about to give up, there he was. Behind the counter, like nothing was unusual.

 

Draco looks up from his book and raises an eyebrow.

 

“How is it that I take off for ages, and here you are again on my first day back? Did Habs give you my schedule?”

 

“Er, no, he didn’t… Coincidence?” Harry smiled weakly.

 

Draco’s looked unconvinced.

 

“Alright, Potter, spit it out. Why have you been stalking me?”

 

“Harry. And it’s because… well, I wanted to apologize?”

 

Draco’s eyebrows shot up.

 

“You’ve been holding that in all these weeks? Why didn’t you just owl me?”

 

Harry opened his mouth to reply and closed it. He felt his cheeks heat as he realized that yes, that would’ve been the sane solution to conveying an apology to an acquaintance. An owl!

 

Draco studied him. He sighed and put his book down.

 

“Alright,” he said softly. “Let’s take a walk. I don’t want to do this here, and you look like you have something Potter Dramatic to say.”

 

“ _Potter Dramatic_?” Harry tried to look affronted while following Draco to the office behind the desk. It didn’t really work, since mostly what he felt was relief that Draco was giving him the chance to explain.

 

“Please. Assuage your guilt,” Draco smiled weakly.

 

And Harry didn’t wait to be asked again. His apology tumbled out.

 

“--and I’m sorry that I would use that word like that… I have plenty of friends who are, you know, gay… I don’t have a problem with it, in fact I’d be happy if you were--”

 

“Happy?” Draco raised an eyebrow in the middle of Harry’s tirade.

 

Harry flushed.

 

“I mean, not _happy_ like… happy you know. But like, happy for you! And happy to know it about you… I mean, if it were true, you know, you were gay or whatever… or even if you’re not, I’m sorry I used that word, and I—”

 

Draco strode over to Harry and grabbed him by the shoulders.

 

“Potter. Harry! Breathe. I accept your apology. And, er, I’m sure Ginny and Dean and the lot are very grateful for your support. And… yes, I acknowledge everything else you said. It’s fine.”

 

“Oh. Ok,” Harry said. He was suddenly much closer to Draco than he’d expected and it was unnerving. Were his eyes always that color?

 

“Yes,” Draco said, sounding amused. “They’re silver. Malfoy genes.”

 

Harry was mortified to have spoken out loud.

 

“Oh er, cool yeah.”

 

“Cool?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They stood there for a moment and Draco let his arms fall to his sides.

 

“So you really stalked me at work just to let me know you’re not homophobic?” Draco asked, his smile teasing now.

 

“You know I actually like books, right? I wasn’t stalking you, Malfoy.”

 

“Draco.”

 

“Fine, I wasn’t stalking you, _Draco_.”

 

***

 

Harry popped the question.

 

“Would you like to come out on Friday with me and some Hogwarts friends?”

 

Draco’s hand froze over the page he was about to turn.

 

Finally after what felt like an endless pause, he asked, “And do what?”

 

Harry let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Anything other than an outright rejection was more than he’d hoped for.

 

“Dunno. Just have a drinks with us. We go to the Leaky every Friday, Ron and Hermione and me. Sometimes others come, so you wouldn’t be intruding or anything,” he added hastily.

 

There were a few minutes of silence. Draco seemed to have resumed his reading. When he finally spoke Harry thought it might’ve been because Draco could hear his heartbeat and took pity on him.

 

“Alright.”

 

***

 

“Ok, don’t freak out, but I invited someone new to join us tonight.”

 

“You did?” Hermione asked at the same moment Ron said “Who is she?”

 

Harry winced. Before he could answer, he saw all of his friend’s eyes point directly behind him. _Oh boy…_

 

“Is this seat taken?” Draco asked quietly.

 

Harry shuffled over so Draco could fit in the booth with him. He smiled sheepishly at his friends.

 

There was silence. Of course it had to be the most well-attended Friday night in _months_ , the night Draco came. Harry was hoping to start small, and here he was, with 6 pairs of eyes on him and Draco.

 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Draco said to the group.

More silence.

 

“Harry… did mention I was coming, right?”

 

The silence was deafening and Harry was sure he was blushing brighter than Ron ever had.

 

“We’re glad you could join us either way, Draco,” Hermione finally managed, her eager hospitality overtaking her shock at the scenario.

 

“Yeah, uh, school’s been over a long time and we’ve all changed. I mean look at me and Seamus; married now!” Dean laughed awkwardly, slinging an arm around his husband.

 

“I don’t see any difference there then,” Draco commented.

 

There was a beat of silence, long enough for Draco to panic, before Seamus burst out laughing.

 

“He’s right! God, even this Slytherin prat could see us all the way from his table! You’re all liars when you say you couldn’t tell!” He kissed Dean and both of them continued laughing at their predictability.

 

That finally broke the ice. Hermione shook her head at the pair and even Ron quirked a smile. Luna sealed the deal by carrying the conversation like nothing strange had transpired.

 

“So I hear you and Harry met at an imaginary bookshop? Are the books you sell imaginary as well?”

 

***

 

The group had trickled down to Ginny and Luna and Draco and Harry. Finally, the ladies decided to call it a night, the eyes Ginny was making at Luna practically indecent. Ginny said a quick goodbye and Luna kissed them both on the cheeks with a foreboding warning to “behave themselves.”

 

Draco moved to the other side of the table, so he was looking at Harry. He was smiling, the soft smile of the pleasantly buzzed. Harry realized he’d never seen the other man drunk, and he said as much.

 

“Well, I hardly make it a habit. Especially around attractive men,” he said. He seemed to realize what he said and blinked, looking instantly sober.

 

But Harry hadn’t noticed the jolt of anxiety that Draco experienced, he was enjoying the warmth in the pit of his stomach that the comment elicited.

 

“I think you’re attractive too.”

 

“What?”

 

Now it was Harry’s turn to blink to sobriety.

 

“I mean… You know. Like a bloke.”

 

“Oh. Right,” Harry wasn’t sure why Draco sounded so disappointed.

 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Harry blurted.

 

“A—what?” Draco looked confused.

 

“A… I don’t know. I mean, I don’t. Last girl I dated was Ginny, and I’m pretty sure I turned her,” Harry said nervously.

 

Draco burst out laughing. “Harry, I thought you realized. I’m gay. Like, not as gay as Seamus is for Dean, obviously, but probably at least as gay as Dumbledore.”

 

“Dumbledore was—”

 

“Oh yes.”

 

“Oh. I wonder if Ginny knows that.”

 

They were silent, Draco stirring the dregs of his drink.

 

“My flat is walking distance from here. I probably can’t apparate in my current condition. Time for me to be heading to my bed anyways,” he said, finishing off the last of his glass.

 

“Oh. Sure, yeah. Let me walk you there, I think I’ll be sober enough to apparate if we walk a little.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They paid their tab and went outside. Harry shuffled a step or two behind Draco, letting him lead the way. He let his eyes drift to all the late night couples out in the streets. All the hand-holding, and leaning on each other. He felt more wistful for it than usual, which was strange, because his usual was to be surrounded by all his friends who were dating all of his other friends.

 

They arrived too soon.

 

“Do you want to come in?” Draco asked at the same moment Harry asked, “Can we stand outside for a moment longer?”

 

They looked at each other, then looked at their feet and laughed. Draco leaned against the side wall and Harry stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking onto his heels.

 

“I’m really glad Habs brought you in that day,” Draco said softly.

 

“Yeah. I guess he really did know what I was looking for,” Harry replied, still looking at his shoes.

 

Draco looked at him quickly and then away.

 

“Listen, I—”

 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Harry was kissing him. Holding his face, awkwardly balanced, leaning forwad— _kissing him_.

 

Draco’s mind went blank. Harry’s already was.

 

Their lips held for a long moment, then a few quick ones, desperate but not greedy.

 

They broke apart, Draco’s face in Harry’s hands.

 

“Would you… like to come inside?”

 

***

 

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I have Harry fucking Potter in my apartment. Heterosexual, last I checked, fucking Potter!!_

“Er, I like your flat,” Harry said, toeing off his shoes.

 

_Imbecile, foot-in-mouth Harry Potter!!!!!_

 

Draco’s internal monologue was preventing him from speaking so he nodded at Harry. Here he was. Standing in his living room. Shoes removed, with a slightly tipsy Harry freakin’ Potter.

 

“Can I kiss you again?” Harry aske, words tumbling over each other. He blushed.

 

“Yes,” Draco breathed, moving to meet him halfway this time.

 

Oh, screw it all, if he was going to hell it’s not like he hadn’t been there before and this was totally worth the price. Potter was leading. Harry was leading _kissing Draco_.

 

Draco put his hands on Harry’s waist, shuffling him backwards while they kissed. Harry had his hands around his neck, reckless. Figured Potter would kiss recklessly, like everything else he did, Draco thought wryly.

 

The back of Harry’s knees hit a bed. He startled a little and broke away from Draco’s lips. He looked at him questioningly, as if waiting permission. Draco confirmed by shoving him back a little and then—oh fuck—Harry was sitting on Draco’s bed.

 

Draco wasted no time. He relieved Harry of his shirt first, then removed his own. Then he straddled Harry’s lap, kneeling on the bed. He was met with an appreciative groan and Harry grabbed his ass, squeezing. Draco could feel the hardness under him, meeting his own as he ground down while his tongue plunged into Harry’s mouth.

 

“ _Oh fuck,_ ” Draco breathed, as Harry’s mouth found his throat, searing a line from his chin to his collarbone. It felt so damn _good_.

 

After exploring each others bare chests and necks, Draco got up so Harry could move back. Finally, _finally—_ even Draco had no idea how long he’d been waiting for this—Draco lay on top of him. He felt the length of their bodies, fitting together so nicely, and it was _perfect._

 

Harry shifted to remove his pants and Draco hurried to do the same. When Harry looked at him uncertainly, Draco kissed him _hard_ , and began exploring his way downwards with his lips. Feeling the perfect curls of the hair on his chest, hiding the hardened nipples underneath. He toyed with them for a minute, one hand holding tightly onto Harry’s own, while his other brushed and teased anything it could reach.

 

He kissed lower, encouraged by the sounds Harry was making. He finally reached the insides of Harry’s thighs, covering them both with little nips and kisses until those thighs were shaking under him. Finally, he looked up, locked eyes with Harry… and swallowed him down whole. He relished the choked gasp that elicited from Harry, and paused for a moment before beginning his sweet long strokes. Harry for his part, was doing his best to not let this finish too quickly. But the things Draco was doing with his mouth, his hands… his voice…

 

_“I want to hear you, Harry. Let me know how much you like it.”_

 

Harry groaned. Draco closed his eyes and moaned at the sound, reaching a hand down to touch himself.

 

“Should I... What do you want me to do?” Harry whispered.

 

“Just enjoy it, for tonight.”

 

“But what about you?”

 

“Next time, beautiful.”

 

Harry moaned. Draco came back up, sloppily tangling his tongue with Harry’s own. Harry tasted himself on the edges of Draco’s kiss, feeling weak everywhere.

 

“I’m gonna try something, alright?”

 

Harry nodded fervently. _Yes, yes, whatever_.

 

Draco leaned back down, and Harry felt himself hit the back of Draco’s throat. He moaned, missing the whispered incantation under Draco’s breath.

 

_“Come for me, Harry.”_

 

Buried deep inside Draco’s throat, Harry felt a slick finger enter him. Draco crooked his finger just right, as he hummed around Harry’s cock, and Harry saw stars.

 

***

 

Harry woke up to the sun streaming in, ass naked in a bed that wasn’t his own.

 

“Coffee?” Draco asked, walking in with 2 mugs.

 

Harry grumbled and pulled the pillow over his head.

 

“You know, I’m not a morning person either, but someone was hogging the blanket.”

 

Harry mumbled under the pillow.

 

“What?”

 

“I _said_ , I’ll have some coffee.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No.”

 

“Is that any way to thank someone for the best blowjob of your life?”

 

Draco had the pleasure of seeing Harry turn bright red in the second before the pillow covered his head again. He grinned.

 

“I told Habs I’d be in today. That’s whether you have coffee or not. So what’ll it be?”

 

Harry grumbled in a way that Draco could only assume was affirmative. That, or he might’ve said “bugger off,” but who knows.

 

***

 

Habs fixed the boys with the widest smile they’d ever seen when they walked into the shop hand in hand. 


End file.
